


Claire Dearing's week from hell

by desikostos



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:32:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8674642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desikostos/pseuds/desikostos
Summary: Claire is having the worst time of her life... But something good comes out if it. She just needs to survive this week to see it.





	1. Day one

_The week from hell._ This is what Claire would call the next seven days for the rest of her life. Ok, it wasn’t all bad, but what else would you call the worst hangover of your life, being constantly dragged down and humiliated by a man you simply cannot stand, and almost getting eaten alive by a dinosaur. You got it, a living hell.

But, it wasn’t all bad, right. It was great too. And by great, Claire meant having the best sex she could ever imagine, with that very same man that pushed all of her buttons. Fate’s ways are definitely mysterious. She just didn’t know how mysterious they could get.

………

DAY ONE

Claire forced the door of her Mercedes shut with her hip and checked the time on her phone once more. _Great_ , she thought, releasing an irritated sigh. Late, _again_. It was becoming like a second nature of hers.

She took the distance between her car and the main office in a heartbeat. Waving, Claire had one of the building’s security open the door for her. Carrying soy latte in one hand, and balancing stack of papers and laptop in the other turned out to be not such great idea.  The difference between the unbearable heat of the tropical air, and the ideal 75° degrees inside disturbed her balance for a second. She hated that more than anything else.

Claire awarded the guy with one of her dashing smiles, and then proceeded to her office.

She found her secretary Debbie just where she had left her last night, behind her desk, going through her daily schedule. She could have sworn that if Debbie wasn’t wearing different clothes, she might have spent the night in here.

“Good morning, Debbie, how was your evening?”

She handed Claire her mail. “Lovely, Ms. Dearing. Yours?”

Claire thought about for a second, contemplating her answer. Her nights mostly were consisted of work, more work, and guess what, even more work. Even though the thought of it made her little uneasy of first, Claire was used to it. “Just as well Debbie.” She took the letters and memos from her hand and headed for the door.

“Is he here yet?”

Debbie fixed her skirt and went on with doing her things. “No.”

Claire almost didn’t drop the papers, as she turned on her heels to see Debbie not even bothering to look up from her computer. “What do you mean _no_? He was my nine o’clock, and I’m like twenty minutes late.”

Debbie typed something down. “He said that there was nothing to talk about, and that you should stop trying to boss him around, since you’re not his boss.” She looked at Claire and added “I’m telling it word by word.”

Claire shook her head. “Unbelievable,” she muttered under her nose and entered her office. As the door closed, Claire watched Debbie carefully. She wasn’t sure why Mr. Masrani had hired her for her secretary, but Debbie was one tough lady, genuinely not interested in anything else aside from her job.

“Thanks,” she waved at Debbie and kicked the door shut with the heel of her pumps.

Alone at last. But little pissed off too. Third time if two weeks he had blown her off. It wasn’t a social call, but work related, and yet somehow Grady always found a reason to drop her. And it was getting on her nerves already.

………

Couple hours later, after rounding the park more than three times, Claire found herself in her office. Maybe it was her imagination, but it seems that everyone was trying to sabotage her _. And today of all days._ The fundraiser was set to begin few hours from now, and she still had tons of work to do before she could go home, shower and change. Claire had put up enormous effort in choosing outfit. No scratch that, she had put an enormous effort in finding an outfit. She worked long hours, and shopping was simply not in any day’s agenda.

But she had one serious problem to solve first. _Mr. Owen Grady_ , she thought frowning. The man was giving her the time of her life, and not in a good way. Ever since he was hired, her days had filled with incidents reports, and subsequently fights. Even though he wasn’t hired by Mr. Masrani, but InGen, the park and everyone on it were her responsibility. Including him… _Damn it and damn him_ , _making me go to him, and not the other way around_. _Military courtesy my ass!_

Clair grabbed the key for her car and stormed out her office. Debbie wasn’t where she had left her twenty minutes earlier, but it was almost lunch time, and she had probably gone out, which reminded Claire that aside from her latte, she hadn’t eaten all day.

On the way out she grabbed a power bar from the nearest vending machine and ate it. Opening the door the warm humid air caught her off guard. She shook her head, something that always made her feel a little better and headed for her car.

Twenty some minutes later she parked the Mercedes next to Owen’s bike. Dismissing the urge to kicked it, or at least scratch it with her keys, she moved pass it and headed for the raptors enclosure.

………

She always amazed him. Dressed in wine-colored pencil skirt and white sleeveless blouse, rocking matching the skirt pumps, she didn’t belong in there. He carefully watched as she walked around, asking few of his men probably where to find him. After few futile attempts, she finally figured that no one was going to help her.

He watched her shaking her head and looking around, till she didn’t raise her gaze to find him grinning at her from the metal passage, hanging above the enclosure. She looked pissed, and he loved it.

Claire gestured him to get down, but he remained exactly where he was, forcing her to get to him instead. She cursed under her breath and took the metal stairs leading to the passage.

After a minute she was up and walking toward him. “Mr. Grady,” she got to him and adjusted her tight pony tail, “I thought that we had an appointment this morning?”

Owen grinned back at her, tucking his thumbs in the belt of his dark denim’s, looking relaxed and casual about it. “Can’t help with what you’re thinking or not thinking, Dearing.”

Only then Claire noticed the blood, staining his once white tee. “Is that what I think it is?”

Owen looked at his shirt and waved at her in dismissal. “Probably. Can’t remember the last time the damn thing was washed.”

She faked a smile. “Great! That sure as hell makes me feel a lot better.”

Owen shrugged and turned on the heels of his boots, and was about to walk away, but Claire hurried passed him, forcing him to stop.

“We need to talk.”

“I thought I made myself perfectly clear that there was nothing to talk about.”

Claire shook her head. “Agree to disagree.” She checked something on her phone, and said, “For the past three months we had scheduled four meetings to discuss the progress of this little experiment of yours and you’ve missed them all.”

Owen took a breath and was about to say something, but Claire cut him off, “No, correction, you canceled them all by not showing. I can’t think of any reason to do that, aside from sabotaging me and my work.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and slightly moved her, so he could get away from her and her constant nagging. Yes, _nagging_.  The term perfectly fitted her. Ever since he first met her, she was pain in his side. Always talking about schedules and controlling stuff. It took him only few seconds to know for certain that they could never work.

He pressed her against the railing, forcing her to grab to it and hold on for dear life. He had that effect on her, but coming here too was a problem on its own. “Why would I do something like that? Trust me; I don’t even care about what you do in your little office and with your little life. I’ve been little busy myself.” He gave her a half-grinned smile and walked away, leaving her angrier than she had ever been in her life.

She pushed off and followed him, “I know that.” The heels of her fancy pumps leaving the unmistakable clacking sound as she took down the metal stairs on the opposite site of the enclosure. “You wanna know how,” she yelled after him.

Owen jumped on the ground, sending little dust cloud up in the air. “Not really.”

Claire followed him. “By the increasing incident reports. By the growing number of people complaining about the safety around here,” she hurried after him, “and questioning the viability of the program.”

Owen abruptly stopped and turned, forcing her heels to dig the ground in an empty effort to stop.  He looked her straight in the eyes, making her pulse speed up. “Maybe that is, because you always force completely unqualified people on me. I told you that this wasn’t one of your regular attractions. The work we do here is little more complicated. ” He shook his head, looking over hers, “isn’t it obvious there is nothing to discuss.” and left.

Claire was left in the middle of the outer paddock, staring at Owen as he was walking away. But he couldn’t have the last word. No sir, he surely wasn’t going to get the satisfaction, so she yielded after him, “well, if you had come to at least one of our meetings…”, but he was long gone, entering one of the personnel buildings, leaving her alone, and yelling, and looking like a complete nut job. The last part she read on everyone’s faces.

She cursed loudly, calling him names and headed back for her car.

………

The fundraiser was set for eight o’clock sharp, but Mr. Masrani had warned Claire that he might be late, and that she was supposed to be the one to greet the guests.

She showed up around seven thirty, surprised to see that everything was almost ready. She wasn’t used to not to be needed, and honestly for the first time she felt grateful for that. She took a champagne flute from the nearest end on the bar and walked around, you know, to supervise.  Having some time to herself was great experience and she wasn’t gonna ruined it with imposing on people while they worked.

The first guests started to arrive some fifteen minutes later, and Claire had to abandon her drink and go to work. She greeted them, showed them around. Couple after couple, she found herself surrounded by some of the richest and most powerful people in the world.

Mr. Masrani wasn’t as late as he thought he’d be, and around nine o’clock Claire was relieved of her duty and let to have some fun. He always told her to try and have more fun, but she didn’t see the point. She was working, not vacationing here, but another glass of the finest champagne she’d ever had wouldn’t harm, right.

Claire headed toward the bar, passing and smiling at people she had never met before, until something caught her attention. If she had another few drinks, she could’ve easily thought she was hallucinating, but one glass of champagne couldn’t do the trick, so what she was seeing must have been real. Doing double take and pinching herself didn’t make the image go away, _so yep_ , definitely true.

The raptor whisperer also known as Owen Grady had just entered the room, taking him mere seconds to own it. The guy was almost unrecognizable, wearing a tuxedo and looking like someone who had just walked out of GQ’s cover shooting. Claire felt her heart starting to race against her chest. She hated the effect he had over her, but seeing him standing there, all dressed up, looking… _handsome, and sexy, and oh shit, staring back at her_.

She fumbled back, slowly finding her footing. _The bastard_. She needed that drink more than ever.

………

The shock on her face made his stomach do a backflip in triumph. He loved messing with her. Her stricken expression was enough to get him through any shitty day, like the one he was having today. After she’d left he had a heart to heart conversation with Barry, how he wasn’t supposed to treat her like that, because she was a lady and because technically she was in charge here, and more _blah, blah, blah_. _What’ve happened with the good old guy talk_? Where guys would support each other, especially when it came to women, not bend just because some, some… incredibly beautiful woman was left upset. But Barry was like that.  

But seeing her tonight was pure shock to him too. The woman looked gorgeous. He had seeing her parade around in her fancy work clothes, completely ignoring the fact that she was working on a tropical island, always dressed up in sharp formal suits, classy shoes and corresponding behavior. But tonight she was far from the woman he had come to know, and… _And what, did he like her now_?! Hardly. He had to admit though that she looked like a Greek goddess among men.

The dress fitted like a second skin, complementing her curves, the deep admiral blue colors making her skin look even more beautiful, like she was some living porcelain doll. The plunging V-neck was bit too much for him, not because it didn’t look good on her, more likely because every man in the room filled their eyes with her sight. And he _kinda_ , _sorta_ hated them for eating her alive like that. Her red hair was pulled up in an elaborate up-do, leaving few of her curls to frame her face. The fabric made her look like she was walking on a cloud, sliding further away from him. Yep, she was definitely trying to avoid meeting him. But as he father used to say “ _fate favors the brave_ ”.

………

She was trying really hard to escape the inevitable, also known as Grady with a pitch of resentment. After today’s fiasco, she could go on with not seeing, talking, or thinking of him ever again. But her guarding godmother must be taking day off today, because all of the sudden, as she was quietly drinking her second glass of champagne, hidden in the shadows of one of the corners, alone and away from the world, he had to disturb the little piece and quiet she managed to have in weeks.

“Hiding here, aren’t we?”

Claire almost didn’t choke, but still managed as a whisper “go away.”

He rounded her and came to stand before her. “Still upset about earlier?”

Claire tried to burn him with the intensity of her stare. “What I could be possibly upset about?” She tried to push him away, but the man didn’t even twitch. _Why had he to be so big, and firm, and sexy in that damn tux?_ Claire could feel her cheeks burning. _Way to go, Dearing_.

It seemed Owen had noticed it too. “You ok? You’re turning in a weird shade of red.”

“That’s because you’re robbing me of my air,” _both figuratively and literally_. “Go away.” She made a face and he had to move this time.

She took the last of her drink in one swift gulp and went to look for another one.

Owen grinned after her. He was making her uncomfortable and it pleased him. _A lot_!

 ………

Thirty minutes later Owen was nowhere to be found, and Claire could finally enjoy herself to the fullest. The champagne made her little lightheaded, a sign it was time to have something to eat. With a plate in one hand and champagne flute in the other Claire walked over to one of the waiters and filled her dish with some of the appetizers that had been prepared for the event. She never knew that there could be something as perfect as smoked salmon on a cucumber canapé. She bet there was some fancy name to it, but it simplicity made it even more exquisite.  She had few of them, satisfying her hunger. Behind her, the unmistakable cheerfulness of Mr. Masrani’s voice made her turn. She was about to smile at him, when she notice who was on his tale.

Owen’s smug look made her regret not drinking more tonight, made her regret even coming. She honestly thought she had chased him away. As one of her previous boyfriends had stated it was talent of hers, to chase the men away. But clearly he wasn’t like any other man she had met. _The bastard._

Mr. Masrani extended his hand, taking Claire’s in his. “Claire, my dear, Owen just told me of the conversation you had earlier today.” 

Claire looked from Owen to Mr. Masrani. “He…” she hesitated “did?”

 “Yes, he did. He told me you discussed the raptor’s program in lengths. I’m so very glad that two of my most valued people are getting along so well and working in favor of making this place what I and Hammond always knew it could be.”  Mr. Masrani was glowing with pride and joy. Owen was definitely gloating, she could see it in his eyes. Making her feel like incompetent newbie was probably number one on his daily itinerary. Not that he would know that was. But she couldn’t let Mr. Masrani down. She owned him that much. The only thing left to do was to play along. She smiled at him and nodded energetically.   _The bastard._  

Owen was having a blast. He never thought that ambushing Masrani earlier could ever lead to this. He was going to have his way with the program, diminishing Claire’s or anyone else’s involvement to the minimum. Let her stick by her books and numbers and leave the real work to him and his men. But seeing her  twisted with pure, unmistakable anger face just made all of his body oozing pure satisfaction.  

“Now, if you must excuse me,” Masrani looked at the direction of a young woman and smiled, “there is somewhere else I’m needed.”

He kissed Claire’s hand and nodded at Owen for goodbye. Owen nodded back and followed Masrani as he walked away. Once it was safe, he turned his attention back to Claire, only to find her drying up her champagne. “Bottoms up” was brought to a new level.

He couldn’t help but grin. “You have a great boss, very understanding man.”

After finishing her drink, Claire had to look at him. No, better, scorch him with her eyes. “I hate you.”

Owen raised an eyebrow. “Come on, don’t be so melodramatic.” He took the glass from her hands and handed it to the passing waiter. “You have to admit I have my way with people and you just don’t.”

Claire didn’t try to hide her indignation. “Mr. Masrani is not some people, you big…”

Claire was about to say something truly nasty, but the amazed, and yet entertained look on Owen’s face made her stop and re-evaluate.  “Look Mr. Grady,” her tone bit to Owen, and rubbed him the wrong way, “I’m not going to allow you to make me look like a fool in front anyone else, especially my boss, so quit it. Like it or not, I’m still in charge and you’re still to report to me, ok?”

She felt like a winner for a moment. For a very brief, brief moment. Owen just stood there, watching her, and grinning like the idiot he was.

“What?” She hissed at him.

“Nothing.” He coolly eyed her.

Have she mentioned it lately, _the bastard_. “Then why are you looking me like that.”

“Because being wrong is just not in your nature, and right now you couldn’t be more wrong.”

He approached her, his face inches away from hers. Thank god for high heels. The man was built massively, and she suddenly felt quite tiny matched to him. “Mr. Masrani will probably notify you tomorrow morning, but both officially and unofficially you not the boss of me anymore. See, Simon and I…”

Simon? _Simon!_ They were on first basics, already? _Unbelievable_!

“We had a good talk and decided that till you don’t get better knowledge on what work is done down there, I should be the one hiring the personnel. Just to be sure no one gets hurt anymore, and working those incident reports down.”

Claire stood in silence, completely taken away by the victorious expression on _the_ _bastard’s_ face. Yes, _the bastard_ that had made her look like someone who didn’t know how to do their job, and in front of her boss of all people. She was so angry, she was livid. Right now there was nothing but Owen Grady and her ever-growing desire to kill him. “Why do you hate me so much, what have I done to you.” It was more a statement than a question.

Owen looked at her from head to toes. What has she done to him, aside from making feel funny? Funny in a bad way, never the less. She was pushy, and overbearing, and annoying, and… and determent, and smart, and sexy, and the most gorgeous classy woman he had ever met. But the bad of her qualities outwaited the good ones. “It’s nothing personal, Dearing, but this project is my baby, and I honestly can’t see your involvement ever leading to anything productive. That’s all.”

Claire eyed him funny. She was probably thinking where to smack him, but she restrained herself from doing it. The struggle was real. She growled at him and walked away, mumbling something under her nose. Like it or not Owen made out what it was, and it wasn’t nice.


	2. Day two

DAY TWO

_Was he that big of a jerk?_ Hardly. He was just trying to protect his work, that’s all. It was something he thought Claire would understand, but at the end of the day she didn’t.

They didn’t part ways peacefully last night. The last thing he saw before leaving was her burning gaze following him to the door. The woman had a mean one, and he was sure it was going to come back and bite him on the ass. _Literally_.

Owen spent the next morning doing nothing. Really nothing. He was too distracted to focus on anything, and he knew best that with his head not in the right place he’d be risking getting himself or anyone else hurt if he got down to business. Tinkering his bike seemed the right choice at the moment.

An hour later Barry found him still hovering over the machine, taking it apart. Like that would help him.

“I hear you won last night.” He gave Owen a friendly tap on the shoulder and sat next to him.

Owen considered both the win and the cost, and felt proud for a second, before the image of Claire didn’t emerge in his mind. “Something like that. But I have a feeling it wasn’t without winning us an enemy.”

Barry honest laugh had him staring. “Sorry brother, if the enemy you speak of is the little red-hair, she’s all yours.”

“What, you’re abandoning your brother in a time of need?”

Barry shrugged. “The woman looks harmless, but we both now she could be quite scary at times. I know better than to earn the wrath of a woman upon me, and so should you.”

“ _The wrath of a woman… please.”_ Owen returned his attention to the bike. But the machine wasn’t getting all of his attention. Part of him was still going back to Claire. Yeah, she was harmless, but the way she was looking at him last night got him thinking. It was hard to imagine this woman ever hurting anyone on purpose, but the day was young. And it her defense, Owen did have a history of pissing off women to the tipping point.

Twenty minutes later and after a good laugh on both Owen and Claire’s expense, Barry had to drop it and focus on Jimmy, one of the new recruits. The kid was rushing toward them, panting.

“The kid doesn’t look good.” Barry nodded at the young man, making Owen turn and follow him with his eyes as he approached them.

“Make sure Charlie is not behind him.” Owen grinned at Barry, not leaving much to the other man but to shake his head at his silly friend.

The kid finally got to them. He opened his mouth to say something, but was so out of breath it took him some time to recover from all the rushing.

“Cool it down, Jimmy,” Owen looked up to the kid, “or you might pass out.”

Jimmy nodded energetically, rubbing his chest, till his breathing and heartbeat didn’t reach normal rate again. When he was finally ok with talking, he didn’t feel any bit ready to do it. “Um, the lady from yesterday… she…”

“If she is on the phone…” Owen tensed for a moment, “just tell her I’m too busy, and that I’ll get to her whenever I feel like it, ok? Can you do that for me Jimmy?” He looked at the kid, no he more like stared the kid down, knowing he would eventually cave under the pressure.

 “Sure, but…”

“Great!” Owen moved around the bike and kneeled down.

“But she is not on the phone…” Jimmy twisted his hands.

“Even better.” He waved at him, with a wrench never the less.

“Sh… she… is in the main trailer, waiting for you.” He finally managed.

Owen stopped and looked over his bike to Jimmy. The kid was all shades of pale, making what he’d just said probably true. He turned to Barry for support, but the man was too busy trying not to burst in to laughing to care about the death stare of Owen’s eyes.

Owen stood up and dusted the dirt and sand off his clothes and hands. “Quit smirking and come help.”

“Oh no, no…” Barry looked up to Owen, hands raised in defense and surrender. “This is your mess.”

Owen rubbed his temples, sensing the pending trouble. Then let his hands fall to his sides. He watched his friend grinning like an idiot at him, because they both knew that what was coming was a shit storm and it was coming in the form of Claire Dearing.

Owen grabbed one of the few clearer cloths and headed for the trailer, but not before he called Barry a traitor. The insult only won him a laugh.

Jimmy stayed behind with Barry. _Typical_.

Owen got to the trailer in no time. He took the stairs in a heartbeat. _Boy was he angry._ He grabbed the door handle and pushed it down.

He found her bended over some of the scattered on the desk documents, looking more lost than interested. This is why he hated when there were newcomers. And Claire Dearing was a newcomer by all means.

Owen slammed the door shut, finally getting her attention, and winning a startled shout. Ok, the latter had him smiling inside.

He got to her and forcefully took the papers away from her. “May I ask what are you doing here?”

Claire didn’t seem all that impressed with the action, but deep inside she was burning with desire to punch him.

“Well…” she eyed him, till he didn’t move. She walked passed him, getting as further away as possible. His eyes simply followed her around.

She turned around when she felt the distance was comfortable and safe enough. She looked him dead in the eye and said, “I thought about what you said last night and realized that you were right.”

“ _Really_?” After tossing most of the papers in the first drawer of the desk he sat on its edge. He used the cloth to clean some of the oils stains and dirt off his hands, but the damn thing was filthier than he was, so the entire action seemed pointless to him. Then he tossed it behind him and crossed his big arms over his even bigger chest. “That’d be a first.”

Claire awarded him with the _don’t-give-me-that-condescending-crap_ look and proceeded talking. “After what you said I realized that I was out of line last night, and before in general…”

Owen was about to throw his hands in the air and jump around, celebrating the victory, but Claire cooled his enthusiasm. “First let me finish then you can pop the champagne, ok?”

“I haven’t said a thing.”

“It’s not like you have to, I can read it in your eyes. Just drop the act for a second.”

“Fine.” He sighed, making it look like an inhuman effort.

“You were right. I can’t be in charge around here, because I know almost nothing about the work you do.”

“Finally something we both agree on.” He stood up and ran his hands down his jeans. “Apology accepted. We’re cool. Now if you excuse me I was quite busy…” He headed for the door, but Claire stepped in his way.

“First of all, busy with what?” She raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know that working on your personal items during work hours counts as _being busy_.” Her fisted hands went to her hips. “And second, I wasn’t nor will I ever apologize to you, about anything, got it?”

Owen frowned at her.

“Anyway…” she cleared her throat, “as I was saying, our conversation last night got me thinking and I came up with a solution to our little problem.”

Owen didn’t like where this was headed. She was too calm, too sure of herself. “What problem?”

“Hierarchy. You see, my very understanding boss and I went over it and decided that I could be of great assistance to you and your men, and of course to him, if I’m allowed to help around with the project.”

_Was she mocking him? Was she kidding? She must be kidding! Helping around? With what?_ Thought after thought, Owen’s brain filled with unpleasant images of countless fights… He shook his head. _Nope, not going to happen_!

“Is this because last night?”

“If you’re referring to you ambushing me and practically robbing me of my job, _um_ , let me think… ” She took few steps toward him and looked him straight in the eyes. “Yes it is. You made me look like a complete idiot in front of Masrani…”

“And this is your way at getting it back at me?” Owen looked honestly surprised.

“Maybe, but it’s a way to restore the control over your work. Look Grady I’m responsible for every person on that island and knowing you I don’t feel safe leaving you and your men without supervision. So like or not I’ll be sticking around from now on, got it?” She gave him not so friendly fist bump to the shoulder.

Owen was mesmerized by her. She was demonstrating a lot of balls, but deep down he knew she would bail at even the minor sign of trouble. He carefully followed her hand till it felt to her side, then raised his stare back to her face.  “Oh, I got it.”

“Lovely,” she triumphed. “Now if you’re not too busy,” _yep, definitely mocking him_ ,“ I’d like to be shown around.”

“Sure.” He walked pass her, got to the door and opened it. “Ladies first.”

………

Showing her around, or getting her through mud and dirt? Claire couldn’t tell the difference. Her heels, the heels of her four hundred dollars Jimmy Choo’s stilettos constantly got stuck in the sand and she could sense that Owen wasn’t feeling much sympathetic for her right now. _The bastard._

Leave it to Claire Dearing to come here wearing five inch heels and not expecting getting stuck every ten seconds. She was probably cursing the moment she thought that was a good idea, but he didn’t care, he just was having too much fun watching her struggle against the muddy terrain.    

He heard her curse few times, feeling like a lottery winner after each one.

They rounded up the enclosure and got to the main door. Owen stopped in front of it and waited till Claire didn’t shift her focus away from her shoes to him.

“You ok there, Dearing?”

She looked up to him, carefully not to snap and kill him right there on the spot. “Never better, why?”

He shrugged, “nothing, just… try wearing something different next time around. What we do here it’s not like the work you do hidden in your office.”

Claire tried to remain calm. He didn’t know her, and yet he always made her feel like she was supposed to apologize to him for something. “I wouldn’t know, I don’t get to spend that much time in my office.”

This time Owen sounded genuinely surprised, “Really?”

“The park is my office, Owen.” She suddenly felt uncomfortable. She needed some space between them. So she moved passed him and headed for the door.

The tone she said it with made him feel little off, like he’d crossed a line with the remark. He shook the sensation away real quick. He didn’t need to feel apologetic for her.

“Whatever.” He once more got in front of her. “Let’s show you around, shall we.”

He unlocked the smaller of the doors, the one leading to the metal passage and turned to Claire, urging her to take the stairs. “As I said, ladies first.”

She took on his offer and started up the stairs.

.........

_Was she ever not dressed up?_ And he had to give it to her. She always managed to stand out with her tailored suits and fashionable skirts. Claire _bloody_ Dearing, as Barry loved to say, looked better every time he saw her, and that was becoming a huge problem for him. He was attracted to her, no biggie; to simply put it he was a man and she was a woman. But attraction usually fades when the opposite is treating you like incompetent Neanderthal most of time, right? It’s not supposed to intensify and mess with your head.

“Are you ok?” Claire irritated voice brought him back to reality.

He cleared his throat. “What? Why?”

“You look all…” she hesitated for a second, “flushed.”

_Was he?_ Great! Number one on his very short enemy list was onto him.

“Never better, princess,” He waved her off.

“Glad to hear it.” Not that she would buy anything he was selling, but the not so cute nick name robbed her of the chance of saying something more appropriate and not so nice back.

They got to the center of the passage and stopped. Claire did a full three sixty, saw absolutely nothing worth of her valuable time. Ok, she had to admit, the view from up her was breathtaking, making her forget for a second why she was there in the first place. But the second passed. She then returned her attention to Owen and asked, “Now what?”

Owen shook his head. She was going to be the death of him. Ten seconds with nothing to do and she was already acting like a petulant child. Something he didn’t need around here. Resting his forearms on the railing he looked down at the empty cage. It was going to be a long day.

 “Hey Grady,” she tapped few times on the railing just to get his attention back on her. Or to annoy him. Even she didn’t know any more. “Contemplating the meaning of life? Why are we here?”

Not moving a muscle more than needed Owen answered. “You wanted to be shown around and I am showing you around. The ocean is straight ahead, the jungle is behind us and down there,” he let his head drop; “it’s where the magic happens.” He then straightened and looked Claire directly in the eyes, “There, done deal, you’ve been shown around. I hope it was as fascinating for you as it was complete waste of time for me.”

Claire wanted to erase the stupid grin from his smug face. Yeah, the bastard was grinning at her, because he thought he had won. But he couldn’t be more wrong. No sir, she was just starting. Masrani gave her permission to be here and full access to the project. Owen might be in basically charge, but she was the park’s manager, and Masrani’s right hand, so Mr. Owen Grady was stuck with her.

She was just to put him in his place when someone called his name. Owen turned to find Hoskins standing few feet away from them, just at the end of stairwell, epitome of grumpiness, as Claire noted as she peered over Owen’s shoulder. And it was all because of her. _Great!_

He approached them, eyes fixated on Claire. She felt an odd shiver run down her spine as he stopped before her and tap Owen on his shoulder. Although it was meant as a friendly gesture, she could see Owen’s body tensing.

“Miss Dearing,” Hoskins flashed her one of his signature smiles, “to what do we owe the pleasure?”

Claire’s eyes jumped from Hoskins to Owen and then back to Hoskins. “Oh, I’m afraid is only work related, nothing fancier.”

“Well, is that so?”

Claire nodded.

“Then I hope our boy here,” Hoskins threw his arm over Owen’s shoulders, “hasn’t been giving you hard time. He can get a little territorial when it comes to his raptors.” He then flashed another iconic douchey smile.

Claire couldn’t agree more, but something about Owen made her rethink what she about to say. His demeanor had changed. His hands no longer rested relaxed at his sides, they were crossed over his broad chest, making him look even bigger, like he was preparing for a fight. His eyes were glued on Hoskins, not on her for a change, perpetual frown sealed on his face. Face that darkened the moment Hoskins showed up. Either Hoskins has interrupted his little shit fest on her or Owen’s wasn’t much of a Hoskins fan.

“No,” Claire reassured him, “nothing of sorts. He has been the most gracious host.”

But Owen didn’t even move at the falter compliment. Odd, if they were alone he would have made some stupid sarcastic comment just to make her feel like an idiot. But not now. She pushed aside the countless questions. “He was just about to tell me about the work you do, you know all the juicy details.”

“Did he now?” Hoskins looked at Owen, he’s feature were unreadable. “I’m afraid this might wait for some other time, because I’ll need to talk to him about something first.”

“Is it about the program?”

“Private.”

“ _Right_ …” Claire looked at Owen, half expecting him to jump at the chance to get rid of her, but he didn’t seem as thrilled. He seemed more reluctant to do it than anything. „Then I hope it won‘t be a problem if I get to know the place, from up here of course,“ she cleared.

„Sure, you do that honey.“ Hoskins gave her another reason to dislike him in the form of the most fake smile she had ever seen.  _Honey my ass. What a condescending asshole._

„Owen, may I...“ he said as he walked away.

„Yeah.“

Owen waited until Hoskins was far enough before focusing back on Claire. „You stay here, so I could see you. No going anywhere without me, no distracting my people while they work, ok? I don‘t care that you might think you‘re in charge here, you‘re not, I am. Got it? I am responsible for these people. They are my friends, so their interests come before yours. _AM. I. CLEAR?_ “ He pressed on every word, you know for the dramatic effect.

She tried to protest, but he cut her off. „No, no, no... No fussing, no pouting, no arguing. All I want to hear is that you understand what I am saying.“

„Fine,“ she managed through clenched teeth.

„Great!“

.........

When Owen got to Hoskins the man was radiating contempt. He always knew Hoskins felt like the go-to-like guy for everything, and that Masrani should leave him deal with the raptors program alone, but Simon Masrani was a smart man. He must have known that Hoskins could turn out to be loose end if not kept in check. Owen was there to make sure that never happened.

„What‘s up, buddy,“ Owen asked as casually as possible.

„Why is miss fancy pants here?“

„You heard her. Work. “

„Yeah right.“ Hoskins didn‘t seem too keen at the answer. „Try with something else.“

„Ok, to be honest it‘s kind of my fault.“

„How so?“

„Last night at the party I may or may have not said and done some things to upset her.“ And he was starting to regret it, but in his defense it was too much fun at the time.

„And this is her way of getting it back at you, ha?“ Hoskins tried to sound serious, but he failed miserably. „The woman can hold a grudge.“

„Sure likes it. And can you not look so amused.“ Irritation spilled from Owen’s voice.

„Ok, ok, I give up, no more jokes. But miss corporate over there can‘t stay around much longer. We’re not exactly a park’s attraction, there’re no happy hours here. Jesus man, look at her. She seems so out of place with her little dress and her high heels…”

Owen didn’t need to look, because that was part of his problem. He had spent too much time looking at her, thinking about her. Granted it wasn‘t always in a good way, but it happened more often than what he was willing to admit. She was becoming a distraction. He knew what Hoskins was talking about. Claire didn’t belong here, and for the sake of his sanity she’d have to be gone as soon as possible.

„Does she understand about our work,” he continued his instructive tirade. “Or what we‘re trying to accomplish? I bet my pay check is close to nothing. She‘s nothing but trouble.“ Hoskins‘s glare fell on her.

„Time out for a sec, ok?“ Owen stepped in front of him, not liking the way he was acting when it concerned Claire. „I know she can be little pushy and very annoying... most of the time, but she‘s doing her job. No need to bite her head off for that. I‘ll take care of it, maybe show her a trick or two. She‘ll be satisfied and we will got back to normal routine. Just let me handle this, handle her.“

„You better, or I will.“

Hoskins gave Owen a meaningful look.  It didn't sound as a thread, but it definitely was a warning. He knew how to deal with Hoskins, but the idea of that jerk going after Claire made his blood boil. He didn’t necessarily knew why it happened, but it did. And yes, Hoskins was a jerk, because he always thought he was right. That made him unpredictable and dangerous. It‘s not like he would go behind Masrani‘s back, but little precaution never hurt no one.

„And Hoskins,“ Owen stopped him before he could go down the stairs. „The raptors, what happens with them is up to me, not to you. Don‘t ever forget that.“

Hoskins let a small laugh to escape his mouth, one that meant _we‘ll see about that too,_ then turned on his heels and disappeared down the stairs.

Owen watched him get to his car, climb in it and driving away. He didn't like what the sonofabitch was implying with the _I will_ part of his ill-timed lecture, but it served as a red light to Owen. _Keep an eye on him..._  

Right after he made sure the lady in the teal dress and cream colored stilettos didn’t kill him first.

 


End file.
